


Of Children

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Jamie have a conversation, immediately after Jemmy's birth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Children

**Author's Note:**

> Lots and lots of hugs to my last minute betas and cheerleaders: grit kitty, nestra, shrift, shanola, athena4lynn!
> 
> Written for ShadowValkyrie

 

 

He heard Jamie's footsteps on the stairs, echoing in the hall, long before the big Scot actually entered the room. 

John kept the lights low, in deference to his ever-present headaches, but even in the dim light he could see the deep lines of exhaustion carved into Jamie's face.

The house had been a-buzz for what seemed like hours, but he asked anyway. "Any news?"

"She is safely delivered of a boy." A grin crossed Jamie's face, temporarily lightening his tired eyes. "A boy, John! I have a grandson."

John couldn't stop the answering smile on his face. "Congratulations, Grandpère!" He extended a hand, and Jamie crossed the room to clasp it in his own large warm grip. 

Red half-moon crescents marked the backs of both Jamie's hands. "A little scarred, are you?"

Jamie released John's fingers and rubbed the marks self-consciously. "She wouldna let me go."

"I'm sure your presence was a great comfort to Brianna," John said. 

Jamie ran a hand through his unbound hair. "It was .... It was difficult, to be there, to see her in the throes. There's a reason men aren't supposed to be in the birthing chamber."

John laughed at the rueful expression on Jamie's face. "Well, it won't be something you'll have to experience again soon."

"Aye." Jamie's face darkened, and John gave himself a mental kick for bringing the unknown MacKenzie back to his mind.

To lighten the mood, John reached over to the crystal decanter of Jocasta Cameron Innes' finest whiskey. The ever-efficient Ulysses had brought it earlier on his request, when word had passed through River Run that Brianna's labor had begun in earnest. Manfully, John had resisted the temptation to drink while awaiting news. It was a small thing, and nothing he would confess to another living soul, but he had hoped that Jamie would wait out the labor with him, in the traditional manly manner of drinking one's self stupid while waiting for the child to be born. Instead Jamie had stayed above, with his daughter and his wife.

Well, it was as it was, and if there was a small flicker of jealousy toward Jamie's unusual wife, John crushed it down quickly and concentrated instead on these few precious moments alone with Jamie. He poured a generous share for Jamie, and, in consideration of his medical status, a slightly smaller portion for himself.

"To the lovely Brianna and her son." John raised his glass.

"Slainte," Jamie responded, lifting his own glass before draining it. "What did she name the child?"

Jamie glowered again. "She willna give him a name until he arrives."

John lowered his glance, contemplated the amber liquid in his glass for a moment. "And if he does not?"

"You may ask her that question. I may not."

"Can your wife?" The words were only slightly bitter on his tongue. He leaned forward and refilled Jamie's glass.

"Mmph." Jamie took another deep drink of the whiskey. "Perhaps."

They sat in companionable silence, lost in their private thoughts. John took another sip of the whiskey, feeling it burn down to his belly. His mind circled around to children, to the loss of fathers and mothers, to Willie, and he felt his heart swell with love for his stepson. _His son._ His son, and Jamie's. 

"Brianna. She is well?"

"Claire says she is doing wonderfully."

And she strolled between them, Geneva, that brilliant and brittle girl. She smiled merrily, and the candlelight winked off the gems at her throat, at her ears. She paused, glanced at Jamie before crossing to where John reclined on the couch. He felt her hand on his cheek, the press of her lips against his mouth. Then she was gone. 

He touched his lips, trying to capture her taste. Jamie stirred in his chair and slanted a look at him. 

"Brianna. Yes." His mind raced, the whiskey had numbed his intellect. Surely that was nothing more than the alcohol speaking to his imagination. Still, he was impelled to ask. "There is no sign of childbed fever?"

"Claire says she knows ways to prevent the fever." John could see the worry flicker in the back of those brilliant blue eyes, even if Jamie's voice was firm and confident. 

"Your wife is a rare fine healer."

"She is, aye. Had Brianna had difficulty birthing the babe, Claire was none too certain what she could have done. She is staying above with Brianna right now to be certain of Brianna's health. We need not worry." 

Childbed fever took even the young, and the healthy; they both knew that. But John pretended to share Jamie's false confidence and raised his glass again. "To your wife, the most talented Claire."

They both drank, John sipping, Jamie draining his glass. 

The liquor emboldened him to ask the question he knew mattered most to Brianna. "Will he come?"

Jamie's eyes pierced him, but he kept his temper under tight rein as he responded. "I dinna know. It takes a special sort of man to take another man's child and raise it as his own, as well ye ken. Whether yon MacKenzie is that sort of man..." He exhaled strongly through his nose. "Claire says he is. She knows him better than I, so I will trust to her judgment."

As if conjured by his words, John could hear Claire's light step on the stairs. That Jamie heard her too was instantly apparent by the way his face lit up and the speed with which he rose to his feet. 

"If I might impose on you briefly, Jamie." He wasn't trying to prevent Jamie from seeing his wife, John told himself. He was injured, he did need assistance. "Could you summon Ulysses for me, to assist me to bed?"

`Of course." Jamie was instantly solicitous. "I havena asked after your health, nor thanked you for all you did for Brianna in our absence."

John waved his concern away. "I am healing quite well, thank you; and your wife has approved of my physician's care. She has also expressed all gratitude necessary; it was my pleasure to be of assistance to your daughter."

As he spoke, Jamie crossed the room and murmured to an unseen someone. Apparently it was a summons for Ulysses; within moments the tall slave entered the room and offered an arm to John. With Jamie's strong grip under his other shoulder, John was soon levered upright; he clung child-like to Ulysses' strength and moved cautiously toward the door. Claire was in the doorway, hair unbound and curling riotously down her back, casting her pale face into shadow. 

John paused and took her hand. Her tawny eyes slanted questioningly at him - Claire seemed to always be as uncertain of him as he was of her - but he simply raised her hand to his lips. "Jamie tells me congratulations are in order, Madam. My sincere congratulations and best wishes for Brianna's and the child's continued good health."

A tired smile crossed her face. "Thank you. Brianna has been most insistent that our young gentleman be properly introduced to you. Perhaps tomorrow, after we've all had a good night's sleep?"

"I look forward to it." He took a few halting steps past her, then half-turned to look back at them. Claire stood enfolded in Jamie's embrace, his cheek rested on the top of her wild untamed hair. There was a twist of pain in his heart, just a small one; he turned away to retire to his solitary bed. 

 


End file.
